


Wisdom to tell the difference

by sherrold



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: I Saw Three Ships, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-08
Updated: 2005-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 10:49:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherrold/pseuds/sherrold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soon after "Forever in a Day", a mission goes very wrong</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wisdom to tell the difference

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Settiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Settiai/gifts).



> Written for Settiai in the 2005 I Saw Three Ships challenge

### Prologue—October 17th, 1999

  
The rest of SG-1 and SG-8 stood impatiently at the bottom of the ramp, waiting for the wormhole to form. Jack stood in the control room next to Colonel Jiggs and looked down at them through the glass, fingering his holster. He'd argued against SG-4 going in, but Hammond was under pressure to cover more planets and Col. Terrell had fought to go in alone. "Gloryhound," Jack had muttered mockingly. Terrell was still new to the SGC—he'd learn, if he lived that long.  
Jack checked below him. Jigg's team—SG-8—looked ready. Daniel looked subdued, even in full battle array. It had only been a month since Sha're…died. Whoa, boy. Wasn't she the living embodiment of 'the Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away.' From everything he could tell, after their unconventional beginning, they'd gone on to have a nearly idyllic year on Abydos. Since then, she'd been a three-year source of pain and anguish. Some part of Jack was glad she was dead so that Daniel could finally start getting over her. It wasn't her fault, sure, but Daniel suffered either way.  
Sam stood just behind Daniel; she looked ready to take on whatever was behind the gate. He caught her attention and motioned to Daniel. She nodded back and he knew she got the message—stay close, make sure he stays in the game.  
Teal'c, just behind her, caught the entire interaction, as ever. Thank god for Teal'c. Even if the Goa'uld weren't life-sucking bodystealing horrors, he'd still want beat them just so they could pay Teal'c back.  
Walter said, "Receiving MALP telemetry," and everyone in the control room bent forward trying to make out the tactical situation.  
Jack rolled his eyes at the fuzzy screen. It looked like Terrell had made a rookie mistake, getting SG-4 pinned down under fire.  
Hammond caught his eye, and he nodded yes. Hammond addressed them both. "Colonels, the gate is held by Jaffa, but there are no death gliders or other ships. You have a go."  
Jack raised an eyebrow at Jiggs, 'we ready?' then grabbed the mike. "Okay kids, we're going in hot. You've all seen the map. SG-4 is pinned down roughly half a klick from the gate, quadrant A-5. SG-8 is going to take point. Let's go bring 'em back."  
He clicked the mike, nodded at Hammond, and headed down the stairs with Jigger right behind him. As always before combat, he badly needed to piss, but he knew it would fade once they got going. Colonel Jiggs joined SG-8, and Jack motioned to them, "head on out." Jack took his spot next to Teal'c, checked Sam and Daniel one last time, and started after Jigg's team. As SG-8 headed up the ramp, their point men started firing before they hit the wormhole to open a path.  
By the time Jack made it through, SG-8 had nearly cleared the area closest to the gate, and most of them had started circling around south. "Carter, Daniel, hunker down here and hold the DHD; get the gaate open as soon as we send them over."  
Sam said, "Yes sir!" and Daniel nodded. Jack nodded back and headed after Teal'c, circling around north, the two of them firing as they went. Terrell and the rest of SG-4 seemed to have found a pretty defensible spot, but they'd let themselves get completely boxed in. "Teal'c," Jack got his attention. "Only hope I see is if SG-8 pulls the Jaffa south, and then we pull them out of their box." A nod and an "Indeed" from Teal'c confirmed his take on the situation.  
Jack motioned toward the next stand of trees and braced himself for another run.  
"O'Neill. The Jaffa." Teal'c pointed at a small group of Jaffa facing part of Jigger's team. Some of them were using their staff weapons as staves or quarterstaffs, rather than firing with them.  
Jack pursed his lips and nodded. Interesting—maybe low on ammo, or whatever those things used. He waited a second for Teal'c to get ahead, then ran past him shooting; they leapfrogged each other as they approached their next blind. He heard firing behind him and turned quickly. Daniel and Sam were under fire. Jack stared, evaluating their situation. They had chosen a good position, they had extra ammo: they should be fine. He swallowed hard and stared for another second before tapping Teal'c on the shoulder and starting their next leapfrog toward SG-4.  
Five reloads later, he and Teal'c had broken SG-4 out and fought their way nearly back to Sam and Daniel, but no sooner had they sent the first half of the team through the gate, than another group of Jaffa appeared, and pinned everyone back down. Jack checked his watch and cursed—they were getting short on time.  
Daniel and Sam seemed fine. They were camped out in front of the DHD, ducking behind a pile of bodies they'd apparently dragged out in front of them: a brutally effective fort. But they weren't enough to keep the gate free—they needed a quick offensive to push the Jaffa back a little.  
He motioned to Teal'c and Jigger. "Jigger, give me three shooters. Terrell," he said into the radio. "On five, start sending them on through." With a clear circle motion, he sent three airmen around left and he and Teal'c headed right, firing wide open—curving back around to end up at the gate.  
Next time he had a chance to look, Teal'c had chivvied most of them through, and Col. Terrell was the only one left. Stubborn idiot was limping, barely able to walk. "Teal'c!" He motioned to Terrell, and Teal'c threw an arm around him and dragged him up the stairs. As they disappeared through the gate, the wormhole collapsed.  
"Dammit," Jack growled. "Daniel!"  
Daniel reached up carefully from his fort of Jaffa bodies, and started to re-press the tiles on the DHD. The Jaffa forces, realizing how few of them were left, crept in closer, firing. Sam cried out in pain as a zat creased her shoulder. Jack fired twice, hitting two Jaffa in the more lightly armored legs, scaring them back for a moment. "Daniel?" Jack said, trying to push him with his voice.  
"I'm dialing, I'm dialing." Daniel reached up again, poking his head up so he could press the next tile, ignoring shots over his head. He ducked down as Sam popped up and fired, then up again to press two more tiles. As he ducked down again, a staff blast over his shoulder struck the DHD, knocking some tiles into the air, and Daniel and Sam both hit the ground.  
Jack watched as Daniel crawled back up to look at the remaining tiles. "It's gone. Jack, it's missing!"  
Jack stared for a moment, swallowing hard. If the DHD was broken…  
Sam peeked up with Daniel, ignoring the shots blasting around them. To Jack, it looked like the staff blast had fused the material under the tiles together. He watched them both press the area of the DHD where the final tile had been, but nothing happened.  
With just Jack firing, the Jaffa continued to move closer; the three of them were being pressed hard. "Press anything, Daniel—get us out of here."  
Daniel stared at the embossed tiles for a long moment. When he reached out and pressed a tile, Jack could have sworn he picked the thing at random. Just as Jack had given up hope, the wormhole shot out of the gate and Jack was up and firing, yelling "Go, go!" driving Sam and Daniel before him, all of them firing non-stop as they ran through the gate.  
They knew the drill—when they came out of the wormhole, Jack took left knowing the others would go right immediately, setting up a crossfire. Jack looked across at them—Daniel was panting hard but looked okay; Sam was favoring her shoulder a little. The next ten minutes were frenetic, but it all went by the book. They kept perfect position, and picked off each of the Jaffa who followed them through the gate, firing multiple times at each one to pierce their heavy armor.  
Jack eyed his rapidly depleting ammo and said a private hallelujah when the gate finally closed.  
He looked around; Daniel and Sam were both standing, thank god, but they both looked ragged, and were covered in blood he hoped wasn't all theirs. One of the five Jaffa lying on the ground appeared to still be breathing. He walked over, gun out, only to see the warrior's eyes roll up into his head. Jack watched him relax into death and sighed in relief. Now all he needed was to see that they were safe and get them home.  
"Carter, Daniel—status. You all right?"  
They both answered quickly, but he could tell they were running a quart low; Daniel, especially, sounded rough. "Daniel, find us the DHD and get us out of here." Jack and Sam started stripping the Jaffa bodies of zats, looking for healing devices or other Goa'uld tech.  
"Sam?" Daniel sounded worried. "I don't see a DHD. Anywhere."  
Jack dropped the gelt he'd collected, his stomach already tightening back into action mode. "Carter, standard search pattern—let's call the gate zero, you take one and I'll take quadrant two. Start with 100 feet, and we'll expand out if we need to. Daniel—look behind the gate." Unlike most planets they visited, the area directly in front of the gate was forested—but not thickly enough to hide a DHD. Within minutes, they knew the DHD wasn't where they expected it.  
Sam and Daniel met him back on the gate steps, both avoiding his eyes. He was still high on adrenaline from the firefight, but exhaustion lurked behind the current jag of energy. He couldn't for the life of him think of what to do next. "Carter, thoughts?"  
"Sir, we have no idea where we are." Not exactly the help Jack had been hoping for. "Earth—the SGC—has no idea where we are. And I have no idea how long it'll take to get us home."  
Jack sat down on a stump and stared at the silent gate. "Well, Daniel, it sounds you may need to buy another new set of fishes."  


### Day 168. 

  
Day length sunrise to sunset, 12 hours, 11 minutes (four minutes less than yesterday).  
Daniel stared into the tipi fire sparking and popping in front of him, desperately trying to tire his eyes enough for them to shut, wishing for the millionth time that he had a journal to write in. He absently noted Sam's sleepy mutterings to his right and Jack's slight snore to his left—as the nights were getting colder they were each sleeping as close to the fire as possible. Easy to do when you lived in little more than a covered fire pit with barely room for them to sleep in a circle around it. Of course, the tipi had been a huge improvement from sleeping in overhangs and under piles of leaves.  
Even without a journal, he reviewed the day to get himself to sleep. Yesterday had been a good day. Jack killed a goat-like creature and brought it back to camp (and made an obscene carving for Daniel out of the bones, and blamed it on him when Sam had found it). It had been nice to have meat after a few days of nothing in the snares, and no fish in the river. Sam found a new kind of tree nuts, and their first careful tasting left none of them sick. Daniel had spent the day cleaning salt, and trying not to wish for a million different things to make the job easier—a real stove, a pot with a lid that fit, a comfortable chair… He stopped himself. Things were getting better. They hadn't had a really bad day—like the one when Sam finally gave up on the gate, or the day a couple of rocks in the river slid and nearly broke Jack's ankle between them—in a week of weeks.  
Jack was having more luck with the mountain-goat-like animals they'd decided had the warmest pelts they were likely to find. Sam had recreated a million necessary things—they wanted to canonize her the first time she made soap—and was having some success making hand axes, and Daniel had finally gotten good enough at tanning skins to give them warmer bedding, and start patching their deteriorating clothing. They had a shelter to sleep in, food to eat, things to do. But he realized they'd kind of pulled away from each other, each nursing their loneliness separately.  
He sat up and looked at Jack, then Sam, by the light of the fading fire. God, how he loved him, loved both of them. He'd waited, and he'd waited again. Maybe he was done waiting. He smiled to himself. He'd had a successful marriage based on less than this.  


* * *

  
The next afternoon, Daniel eyed Jack working at the clay pit, shaping bricks for their new stove. Since Jack decided to teach himself pottery from the ground up, the clay pit had practically become his second home. He was likely to be there for awhile—at least until his back or knees seized up.  
Daniel left the pile of tannin-rich branches he was debarking and wandered over to where Sam was working on her plans for a waterway. In the absence of paper, she was scribbling in the sandy scarp on the ground near the cliff face. He handed her a canteen and stood close, threatening the edge of her design. "How goes it?"  
"Good enough." She looked sideways at him—small talk had become noticeable in its absence in the last five months.  
Daniel glanced over at Jack. So far, he didn't seem to be noticing them, but Daniel knew better than to assume.  
"Okay, cutting to the chase. I'm not going to ask if you think we'll ever be rescued." Without any spoken agreement, they'd all stopped talking about being rescued or getting off of the planet when they failed to engineering a manual dialing sequence on the gate. "But answer me this—what is your considered belief in our odds of being rescued in the next year?" As a linguist, Daniel had always found hard scientist and military speak to be his weakest dialects, but he could appeal to them in their native tongue when he thought it through first.  
"Ten percent. Maybe more if the Asgard or the Tok'ra are able to help in some way." She stopped and rubbed some sand off her hands. "But betting on that is probably right up there with spending your last ten dollars on lottery tickets. Make it five percent, or less."  
"Thanks, Sam." He waited a second to let her answer sink in for her. They'd been so busy finding food, and now preparing for winter, they hadn't talked about the long run in months. "So, given that, do you still consider yourself constrained by the UCMJ?"  
Sam smiled at him, and raised an eyebrow. "Daniel—I didn't even know you knew what it was."  
He scratched his head, trying to remember his plans for this conversation. He was a trained communicator, and he'd known her for years. This should be easy. "You can't possibly plan to stay celibate forever." As soon as the words passed his lips, he wanted to call them back—totally the wrong tack to take.  
Thankfully, Sam looked more amused than horrified, and finally broke out laughing. "My god, Daniel—I think that was the worst come-on I've ever heard—and I've spent my life in academia and the military."  
Daniel glanced at the clay pit again—Jack had gradually scooted around his brick pile until he could do his work and keep his eye on them at the same time. Bingo.  
"Um…well, not me. I mean, well not, not me, but mostly Jack." He rubbed his forehead again.  
"Did Jack put you up to this?" She looked considerably less amused all of a sudden.  
"No! We've never…" He blew out a breath noisily, understanding her issue. They had a lot in common here. "Trust me. The topic has never come up between us." He shuddered, imagining that conversation. "It just makes me crazy sometimes, watching you two wanting and not acting on it."  
"Uh huh." Her face was a little red, and she definitely wasn't admitting anything, but she was still letting him talk. So far, so good. "And what's in it for you?"  
Damn, she was fast. "That's going to be up to you. So, nothing you don't want."  
He left her to her plans and wandered back to the hated tipi to be alone for a second. He was sick to his stomach from hyperventilating, but he wanted to yell hurrah—he'd finally done something, taken a first step, however lame. He lay on his pallet for a few minutes, letting his breath calm down until he could laugh at the level of his over-reaction, then went back out to start lunch. But the rest of the day, he found himself suddenly smiling, or even chuckling without warning, blaming it on the good weather when he couldn't come up with a better excuse.  
________________________________________  
Over the next few days, he noticed both Sam and Jack staring at him. According to plan, but disconcerting anyway. And now that he'd finally taken the first step, he was constantly anxious, on fire, unable to relax as he had before. Desperate to work off energy, he hauled water until all of their makeshift buckets were full, then took over tree felling, determined to make sure they had enough wood for the house once he got them to agree.  
Three days later, he made sure he had supplies enough to do four hides at once, then asked Sam if she'd help him start to cure the hides. Usually a one-person task, but with four hides, it made sense he'd want help. He made sure to ask her at breakfast, so Jack would hear.  
Without much chat they got going, pushing the pelts into the creek while trying to keep themselves dry, then pulling the skins out onto the gorse. The water was cold, already colder than the last time he'd done this, with bits of ice hanging over the still water on the edges. Another reminder that winter was edging closer. Daniel tried to wait Sam out, not saying anything more than, "over here" and "can you get that side" until the pelts were all out of the water and the first hide was stretched in their makeshift frame.  
Then he said, "Thanks. I don't think cold water is good for Jack's bones these days."  
"Darn you, Daniel. One, he's not that old, and two, that is not why you asked me to help."  
The 'dang you' made him smile. Plop Sam down in the middle of a completely different planet, and she still stayed exactly who she was. "Hey, I used to have an entire science department to torture. Now all I have is you two."  
Sam laughed and started scraping the last of the fat and tissue off of the hide with one of her handmade skinning blades. "Tell me the plan, Daniel."  
"As you wish." Daniel made a half bow, getting another smile, and sat down even closer to her, wondering long it would be until Jack made an excuse to wander by. "It's like this. Jack is never going to make the first move. This leaves you feeling like he doesn't want you. This was fine when you both had other options, but watching it play out here is driving me crazy."  
She looked at the space between them where his thigh nearly touching hers. "So the plan is, make Jack jealous? Daniel, that didn't even work in fifth grade."  
"It'll stop him from thinking of you as untouchable." He stood up to wring out a hide; it gave him an excuse not to have to look her in the eye.  
"And make him start thinking of me as yours, and therefore untouchable."  
Sam did dubious well. He suddenly felt like a junior astrophysicist in her department. "It might, sure. But if he says no when we ask, we admit we were never sleeping together, and you ask again, and he says yes."  
"And that would be okay with you?"  
Daniel gave in and looked her in the eye, selling it. "Best case for me—we all end up together." It was the best case, because he never let himself even consider the possibility of Jack and him together without Sam. "I assume best case for you is you and Jack end up together. But I'm asking you to consider another possibility: Jack and you…and me." This was it—all cards on the table. "If you're not willing to be in the middle, then I wish you both well, and we move on. If Jack says yes to you, but no to me, then again, I wish you both well, and we move on."  
"But you think he might? You know, say yes to all three of us together?" He couldn't read Sam's face. First she looked like she was going to giggle, but then she looked down, and Daniel couldn't tell what she was feeling.  
"If he thought you were okay with it, yes." Actually, he had no idea at all. And the very possibility of putting it to the test had kept him awake nights for weeks. But the chance that he might…that made everything worth it. "Which means, I'd like you to take the next week and see if you really could be okay with it."  
"So, you spent this week getting him thinking about possibilities, and in exchange, I agree to consider trying a threeway. Daniel, why didn't you just ask me?"  
He gritted his teeth and ignored her question; he didn't really want to have this conversation now, or ever. Even though Sam and Jack were willing, he never felt comfortable talking about Sha're, it felt like parading his pain. So he'd never told her that after Sha're died, he'd come to feel that people were so fragile. Societies were just groups of people. And their little society was so fragile he was afraid his needs could break it. Even though he loved them. Even though he knew they loved him back. "If you don't think you could…be with me, I understand, but I ask you to consider whether we could… take turns with Jack. If you don't think you could share Jack, having finally caught him, let me know, and I'll let this go." He caught himself. "No, I mean I'll still help you get him, and then butt out."  
She looked at him like he was a particularly stupid four-year-old and waited.  
"I'm sorry, Sam. You're right, I should have just asked."  
"That's okay. The colonel needs a puzzle now and then to keep him sharp." She got to her feet, looking a little shy. "So, now what?"  
"Well, since this is me, I wasn't planning rocket science. I figure we tease him a little more, and then just ask him. But before that? We need a house."  


* * *

  
Early in their stay on this planet, they realized that without coffee, none of them were morning people. By now, they had a pattern that frequently required no talking at all until lunch. Daniel grabbed his usual breakfast—a hot tea-like drink that they hoped had vitamin C in it, and last night's cold fried goat—and headed back to the stream to start the second stage of the pelts. It was a horribly disgusting job, but it wasn't one anyone would fight him for, and it left him on the bank of the creek for hours if anyone wanted to come by and chat.  
By the time he poured urine over the first hide and left it to soak, the day was warming up a little. He washed his hands enough to nibble some almond-like nuts and some more goat, and started the next one. Smooshing up brains and rubbing them over the skins was oddly meditative. Today, unfortunately, all he meditated on was all the ways this entire plan was a terrible idea. He couldn't decide which would be worse, helping Jack and Sam set up housekeeping without him, or having them accept him into their relationship through pity and friendship. And there was always the possibility of everyone getting pissed off about being lied to, and it all ending up with no one together.  
He'd nearly finished his second hide when he heard Sam coming along the bank of the creek. She called out, "Whoa—I always think I remember how bad that smells, and then I'm always surprised again."  
"There was a reason tanners always lived in the low-rent district. If it's too bad, I could be ready for a break." He shook his arms over the hide, encouraging the muck to fall off.  
"Nah, that's okay." Sam stood beside him on the clean side and stared out into the creek. "How did I not notice, Daniel? You really… you've wanted Jack…" She looked very determined, but sat down and stopped looming over him. "How long?"  
He smiled at her, He'd tentatively planned to tell her the whole idea was just good sense with the three of them stuck there, but actually he was relieved to finally be able to tell someone. "Years, Sam. When Sha're was alive, I felt horrible about it. And when she died, I felt even worse."  
She patted his shoulder softly, then sat with him a while as he worked. He knew she had a million things to do—as busy here as she'd ever been back at the SGC—but she kept him company for while. Sam had a way with silence that he'd always appreciated. Eventually she noticed he was out of salt and grabbed a few handfuls, sprinkling it out over the hide for him before sitting back down.  
Their faces were in line, and then she rubbed noses with him. "Sam!" He couldn't help but laugh. She bussed him briefly and stood. "Daniel."  
"Sam?" he answered nervously.  
"It's not wrong to want. It may not be comfortable, or lead anywhere, but it's not wrong, okay?" She took a few steps away before saying softly, "I'm working on house plans. But if he asks what I'm up to, tell him I'm working on a new pitch recipe. He hates the smell of that even more than tanning."  
He watched her walk away, a bit bemused. It was lunch time before he realized that she'd said 'yes' if he could get Jack to go along. He almost cheered out loud. Not for the first time, he realized how much he loved, and owed, Sam.  
With some hope in his heart, the creek to look at, and the sun warm on his back, the afternoon passed pleasantly, even with the horrific smell and cramping fingers. He was mucked up to his elbows and nearly finished with the last hide before Jack showed up. That's me, he thought, always carefully looking my best.  
"Hey, nice look on you," Jack said. "And nicer smell. Thank god it's been sunny; you're going to need a trip to the old swimming hole."  
Daniel kept working, breaking up the last couple of brains in his hands, but he was smiling inside. Jack, checking out the mystery. "Didn't you used to swim in Minnesota after breaking the ice from the lake?"  
"Did I say 'swim'? I think I meant 'fall in while ice fishing'. A very different thing."  
For a closed-mouthed guy, Jack could banter at this level forever. And since Daniel didn't want to give Jack an opening to ask if he was sleeping with Sam, Daniel was happy to let him. "I'm close to done. Come help me wash my back?" He finally looked up and took in Jack's appearance. His old boots and goat-hide patched BDU pants weren't too bad, but his utility vest and goat-hide shirt were covered with recently spilled guts and whatnot. "Whoo—you look pretty messy yourself." What did it say that he still noticed Jack's long legs and cocked hip?  
"Yeah, caught another goat-thing. I can kill them, but I can't seem to clean 'em without getting guts everywhere."  
Daniel started hanging the hides up on the tree he was using as a rough drying rack, smiling at Jack for helping out, then laughing at Jack's disgust at the smell. He grabbed his bag and headed down to their swimming hole, hoping Sam would see them and come join them before Jack got his courage up to interrogate him.  
"How many days has it been. On your calendar."  
Jack's eyes tightened, and he felt under even tighter observation. Jack answered easily enough though, "169 days. Middle of April back home."  
"Hmm." Too bad he kind of needed to avoid Jack: they were living so close to the edge of survival, they had so many things to get done before winter, so many projects that only one of them knew how to do, that they didn't see that much of each other most days, and nights were spent with all three of them together. He missed times with just the two of them: Jack harassing him to get his paperwork in, or sitting on Jack's roof trying to draw mental constellations on the random stars of the sky.  
He shut his eyes for a second, squeezing off thoughts of 'before' with hard learned skill. As he opened them, he saw Jack looking at him questioningly. He shrugged, and took a longer look back. Jack seemed tired, as much as he could tell through the beard and the longer hair that he still hadn't gotten used to. His eyes looked shadowed, too, and Daniel wanted to reach out and hold him, tell him to relax and not carry the weight of all three of them, not worry about what he and Sam were up to. Not worry about the fact he couldn't get them home.  
And hell, for all he knew, he was making it hard for no reason. Maybe if he just pulled Jack, right now, into his arms and confessed everything, instead of planning and scheming around the two most important people in his life—hell, the only two people in his life—  
Jack was eyeing him even more obviously now. "Sorry," Daniel said, gathering his cup and pail to head down to the stream. "I'm afraid I'm getting out of the habit of talking outside my own head anymore. I see you, and have an entire conversation with you, but forget to open my mouth."  
Jack swung alongside him on the creek path. "You just had a whole conversation with me," he said dryly, "but didn't let me hear a word of it."  
Daniel shrugged his shoulders. Yah well.  
Jack rubbed his forehead wearily but Daniel could tell he was largely doing it for effect. "It's not working alone too much. You were strange before we ever got here."  
Daniel saw an opportunity to make a point he could use later. "You're right—I'm the same as I ever was. We are all. Sam's still brilliant and beautiful, and you're still…"  
Jack made an exaggerated, "I'm waiting" expression, but Daniel wasn't playing any more. Jack was so many things to him: strength and bravery, resilience and pain, things undone and things unsaid. Daniel reached out and touched Jack's shoulder, looking away to keep it light.  
Jack returned his touch, rubbing Daniel's shoulder briefly before letting his hand drop, as Daniel knew he would. They'd always been good at giving each other space—maybe too good—and they'd only gotten better at it in their stay here.  
Daniel didn't have to feign happiness when he saw Sam coming to join them, carrying older pelts with her that they could use to dry off, and even better—the first of their new tallow shampoo.  


* * *

  
As Daniel waited just out of sight, Jack rapped a stick against his canteen and yelled, "Dinner!"  
Daniel counted to five before ducking in the lean-to and saying, "Hey, what's for dinner?" He loved to make Jack smile against his will.  
"Like you don't know. Goat. Fake-goat. Whatever. The same damn thing it's been for a month, Daniel."  
"Why does Daniel sometimes sound like damn it in your mouth?"  
Sam came around the side of the tipi, laughing at them, but as usual, staying out of firing range. "Smells like goat!"  
Jack gave them a squinty look of mock aggravation. "You know, you two are welcome to hunt anytime you like." Jack started using one of their survival kit mugs to dish stew up into the other two mugs, and passed them out.  
"But you do it so well!" Daniel took a obvious sniff from his mug and said, "Yum. Just like my mother's goat stew."  
"Yeah, yeah, you're just trying to butter me up."  
Daniel and Sam exchanged guilty glances. "If only we'd known that would work before," Daniel said.  
Jack quickly ate a few bites and set his dish aside. "So, okay, fine—group meeting. What's up?"  
Daniel glanced at Sam; she seemed content to let him go first. It figured. He took a deep breath and said, "We were thinking. Let's build a house. Sam's figured out plans, her new axe is working out, and we've already cut about half the wood we'd need—"  
Sam interrupted, "And you're the one that was pointing out that the days are getting shorter. Wouldn't it be great to have someplace we can stand up inside of for those long nights?"  
Jack eyed the horizon. The sun was still a finger up off the hills, but falling fast. "Using the lean-to to cook under and tipi-thing to sleep in has been working. Who says we're staying here, anyway? What if the game goes away, or the creek floods?"  
"But Jack, this is the best place we've found. It's got clay, salt—"  
Daniel nodded enthusiastically, backing Sam up.  
"—a creek with fish, a young forest with trees small enough we can cut them down, rocks we can sharpen for tools, berries, game to kill, tree nuts, those weird tubers—"  
"With cyanide."  
"With cyanide," Sam said firmly, "that we're able to extract safely."  
Jack said, "I don't like to eat things that have poison in them."  
"You liked them mashed, before Daniel told you they could have killed you."  
Jack raised his eyebrows in a way that showed he thought he'd won that argument, and maybe he had. Sam just smiled, anyway.  
"Ahem." Daniel realized he was clearly designated driver of the conversation tonight. "Unless you have a reason for us to move sometime soon, or a place you think that would be better, we might as well stay."  
"That's a ringing endorsement." Jack was just being pissy, now. "Seriously, there's a million other things you two talk about doing, and now you want to blow weeks building a house? What about making pitch? And lanterns? And working on a real clay oven? And, not that I ever look at Sam's calculations, but aren't we behind on drying meat? Weren't you two the gloom and doom "we don't know how long winter might last or how cold it might get, so we should dry our body weights of goat, so that it's harder than a board and yet strangely less tasteful?"  
Daniel and Sam replied at the same time. "Weeks? It's not going to take weeks."  
Sam went on, "Both those projects and a million others would be easier if we had a house to work in. And if we're going to stay, let's build a house before winter sets in. Please?" Sam put her heart into it. Although they all pretty much did their own thing, Jack was nominally in charge, and without ever talking about it, Daniel was pretty sure Sam agreed with him that it was best to keep it that way.  
"Yeah, fine, whatever, and don't think I didn't notice you completely ignored my cogent comments on the yumability of goat jerky." Jack gave in as gracefully as ever. "And if we're going to start any new projects, I still think we should be researching fermentation."  
"The easiest thing to ferment is milk. If you would start bringing some of those goats home alive, so we could start domesticating them…"  
Jack, as usual, decided to get busy out of talking range when the conversation turned to catching goats, so Daniel let it drop. No reason to stress right now anyway, it was a beautiful evening, so far; the night winds hadn't started yet, and there was still enough light to get a few things done. Jack had put his escape to good purpose, and was making charcoal again, determined to get hotter fires for his clay bricks and dishes. Every time a stewpot broke and dumped their dinner into the fire, Jack's kiln plans got more ambitious.  
Daniel started cutting new goat hide liners for Sam's boots; he'd heard her muttering yet again about how much she missed socks. Sam was the quietest, scribbling on the few plans they'd been able to make before they ran out of paper, updating their totals for food and crossing off usage of materials out of their meager stores that they'd used up. Sam tended to get quiet when she's doing the reports, and Daniel had long since trying to cheer her out of it.  
"Hey, Jack?" Daniel asked. Jack was almost out of sight in the twilight, lit only by the glow from his charcoal fires. "You need new boot liners?"  
"Ah, yeah, that'd be great. I'd rather have socks, though."  
"Yeah, me too." Daniel thought how funny it was that certain items from home were on the approved-to-whine about list, and others aren't. Reminiscing about food was aggressively discouraged, but griping about socks, and new underwear, and new toothbrushes, were daily occurrences. He remembered from Abydos that homesickness seemed to have an ebb and flow—a couple of months of subtle discomfort would be followed by a week or two of almost unmanageable pain, until, thank god, the discomfort reappeared. But talking about homesickness was, along with talking about cheeseburgers, on the taboo list.  
"Hey, I don't know about you guys," Sam said, getting up from the fire, "but it's getting too dark for me to get anything done." She lifted her voice a little, to make sure Jack could hear. "You about ready to damp your forest fire out there?"  
"Yeah, give me five, and I'll be in."  
They tended to stagger their bedtimes just a little; reminiscent of the shared locker room at the SGC. Daniel would wait and go in with Jack, giving Sam a little private time to get as undressed as she chose. Some days it seemed silly, but their old patterns still held.  


* * *

  
Hours later, Daniel found himself as usual, the only one awake, and staring into the fire wasn't helping at all. He gave up and looked away, waiting for his night vision to return. Eventually he could see stars out the fire vent in the apex of the tipi structure—at least it looked clear enough it shouldn't rain in the night. The smoke vent always seemed to leave Jack and Sam dry and dump rain directly on him.  
He laughed at himself quietly. He'd slept rough half his life, both on digs and on fifty different planets. It wasn't the fire vent or the low ceiling of the tipi that he hated. It was just… He'd seen Sam's plans. The house would have 2 rooms. And the back room would have space for three pallets, like they had now, or a bed. A big bed for the three of them.  
Sometimes he felt crazy and alone here, cut off from everything his life had been about. He couldn't help think about the hundreds of planets with stargates that had civilizations on them, or at least ruins. Why were they on a completely empty planet? Other times he wondered if his whole life had been about getting ready for this: learning about primitive societies so that they could more easily survive here, learning to trust Jack and Sam like he'd rarely trusted anyone…except Sha're. She had taught him how to love, and then been taken from him.  
His breath caught in his throat and he sobbed once, trying to be quiet, hoping neither of them were playing possum hearing him fall apart. A part inside of him that never took himself quite seriously laughed when he realized that no matter what happened, Jack and Sam weren't going anywhere, even if they said no. Call him a masochist, but he'd rather be stuck watching Sam and Jack play happy couple if they said no, than lose them all together.  
Over the smell of the fire, he caught the sharp tang of some large wild cat. The mix of wild and tame mixed uneasily in him. He could call it a metaphor for Jack and Sam, but he knew better—there was a part of Jack that desperately wanted a home again, and a part of Sam that was far from safe. And as he finally fell into sleep, he realized he loved that about both of them.  


* * *

  
Jack checked the sunrise time, and marked another day on his rough calendar before heading to the creek for water, stepping over the piles of logs on his way. Only three days since they got him to agree about the new shelter. At least a week shorter than he'd figured that much wood would take, proof that as he'd figured, they'd done much of the work before they even mentioned the idea to him. On the other hand, he couldn't bitch; if they had figured out it was easier to get forgiveness than permission, they'd probably learned it from him. Of course, that just made him wonder what else they weren't telling him.  
He put the water on to heat up, and start shaving. It wasn't pleasant with a five-month-old disposable razor, but he'd seen himself in a beard, and he wasn't giving in yet. With any luck, by the time the razor died completely, Sam would have figured out how to make one.  
Thinking of Sam led him to thinking about Sam and Daniel. It was pretty clear something was going on, but he didn't want to assume the obvious. Sure, they were good friends, young, good-looking, potentially stuck on a planet together for the rest of their life. Why wouldn't they start sleeping together. But something smelled hinky about it. Maybe he didn't want to believe it.  
The last few days as they started collecting the timbers from the forest, he'd meant to keep his eyes on them, but it was so nice to be working on the same project, getting something visibly done, that the days had flown by. It was good to see Daniel and Sam so excited about a project. There weren't enough timbers for a full log cabin, they explained carefully to him, so they were going to make one wall out of sod, and the others out of mudbricks, to see which lasted better through the winter. Apparently, once a scientist, always a scientist.  
At least they hadn't asked him to help cut sod squares. With the two-inch mini-entrenching tool all they had, it looked like backbreaking work.  
In the morning's peace, he gauged their progress. It didn't look like they'd get it done by nightfall. Apparently, they were destined to spend one more night in their makeshift bark and pole tipi. He'd come to hate everything about it, but had never suspected they did too. He ducked back in the tipi to get his cup and watched Sam and Daniel sleep for a minute. The fire had gone out, and the breeze was picking up little pieces of ash. Sam had a little piece on her nose, and Daniel had a couple on his chin. They looked a bit like children, nothing like they had last night as they'd been stretching out sore muscles in front of the fire, letting their hands touch as they said goodnight.  
He let them sleep and ducked back outside, sitting down just as the wind changed direction and blew smoke into his face. As he coughed and sputtered, he consoled himself that maybe by tomorrow, they'd have a chimney. He waited a minute quietly, but it sounded like they'd both slept through his hacking. Remembering looking at them, he tried to figure out what he'd seen between them. He wasn't quite sure. But if they were together, it was no more than he deserved. After all, for more than a year, he'd loved them both, and never said a word to either of them. After all, how could he say anything to Daniel if he loved Sam? How could he touch Sam if he—even in his head he paused—if he was the kind of man who could love Daniel?  
And how could he say anything now, if they had found a way to be happy.  


* * *

  
Sam stretched a little in the afternoon sun, making her back crack. She thought her newest project was going to work; the Jaffa armor had come in handy yet again. Sometimes she imagined an archeologist of the future coming through the gate and finding their little encampment: stone-age pottery and a solar-powered fire starter; a sod wall lined with moisture-barrier emergency sleep sheets. She figured the Daniel of that future team would have a puzzled look on his face for sure.  
Sam heard crackling branches behind the lean-to. "Colonel, is that you?"  
After a pause while she wondered if one of the goat-things had wandered closer than usual, Jack swung around the lean-to. "Yeah, Carter, what's up?"  
"Got a minute? I need help to test the new pulley for the roof cross pieces." She motioned to her new pulley system. "If I've set it up right, I think we'll be able to use the cliff face to get them up there." Jack hefted the heavy pole up and held it, grunting a little, as she removed the old pulley gear and started to add the new.  
"Sir?" She'd always liked to talk as she worked.  
"Yes, Carter," he said, thinly.  
"Do you worry about Daniel?" She wound the last of their old Earth rope around the pole, avoiding Jack's hands as best she could.  
"I worry about my back." He grunted for show.  
"Almost done, sir." She attached the wheel that she'd carved from the inner casing of her radio and some of the Jaffa armor, and started to re-thread the rope through it. "Seriously, sir. You have us to watch over; I have my projects—heck, I've done more straight engineering in the last five months than I have in the last five years. Sure, it's not astrophysics, but I'm… kind of happy here." She gave a tug on the rope and just as she'd hoped, it took the tension up easily, relieving Jack of the weight. "You can let it go now, sir."  
Jack let the pole down slowly and stretched a little. "Daniel stays busy, too. And he's using his, ah, archeological knowledge. He was the one who made the first meat cooler, and he figured out the cyanide thingie before we killed ourselves, and —hell, I didn't have any idea how to tan the hides of the goats I've been killing. Though honestly, there are times I wish he didn't either—I've never been a fan of saving my old pee."  
She smiled, but from long practice, ignored his attempt to distract. "Yeah, but it's not the same, Colonel. I mean, come on, he speaks how many languages? And he's stuck on a planet with no people, and no proof that there were ever people. His whole life was about solving mysteries; evaluating evidence and using it to explain the past. Sure, it's given him some useful knowledge about low-tech living—"  
Jack interrupted, his voice suddenly harsh. "Carter, I hear you. But I don't know what you expect me to do about it. Isn't that your job now?"  
Her throat was suddenly too tight to answer, and after a minute he threw down his hat and stalked off out to the creek. Sam watched him go, trying to be happy that their plan was apparently working. She supposed it was a good thing he needed to clean up before starting dinner anyway.  
They'd never had an easy time talking about Daniel before, either. She'd even, quietly, gone around him to Hammond a couple of times when she thought Daniel needed more field training or downtime. Considering that Jack complained about Daniel endlessly—including to Daniel's face—she'd always thought it was interesting that no one else was allowed to have an opinion about Daniel. As she cleaned up the old pulley pieces and put them back in her workspace, she realized they were…weird about each other.  
And maybe it was catching; they were making her weird about them. Since sneaking away with Daniel yesterday to braid withies and finish the frame for the new bed, she kept losing herself in thoughts she'd never had before, of the two of them touching each other, of the three of them.  
Daniel appeared from the creek walk, carrying the four dried hides with him, and hailed Jack, by now up to his waist in the creek. She couldn't quite hear them, but she saw Jack relax and smile at something Daniel said, and suddenly realized she couldn't trust Jack to say no, and save her from having to think about this.  


* * *

  
Jack looked around the new house, glad to have a moment to himself now that they'd unveiled their big surprise. After a week of finishing it up, he loved nearly everything about the house. Except the bedroom. Or rather the fact that once they all had room to put their pallets alongside each other, Daniel and Sam had moved their pallets much closer to each other than to him. Okay yeah, he resented that. Not that it was any of his business. No matter how often Sam still called him Colonel, he wasn't the boss of them anymore. And he'd put himself in this position, had somehow trapped himself between them.  
Jack put another piece of wood on the fire, and tried to concentrate on checking the draw in the chimney, but he had to stare at it again.  
The new bed. The new bed built for three, and the way Sam had just said it, straight-up, inviting him into the warmth and whatever kind of fire they might build between the three of them. Daniel's face—it hadn't been a smile, but he didn't know what to call it. It didn't look like Sam was inviting Jack against Daniel's will, though. That's when he had realized that whatever Sam and Daniel had been getting up to these past few weeks, he hadn't exactly been out of the picture. At least, not as far out of it as he'd thought he was.  
He didn't want to horn in. He never would have, but she had offered, and Daniel hadn't said anything, and Jack had nodded, and this was the first night they had an actual bed—a bed that maybe he should have noticed was bigger than it needed to be for just two.  
Had they been planning this since they'd been planning the house? He didn't care. Right now, after they'd taken the time to freeze their asses off getting clean, with the fire burning high and warm in the other room, with the two of them whispering just outside the door in a way that annoyed the shit out of him, he didn't care.  
Jack pushed his threadbare boxers down his legs and slid quickly under the jumble of heavy animal hides and crackling emergency blankets as Sam and Daniel came in, still whispering. He didn't want to hear, honestly. He knew it was one more damn version of "are you sure?" and he didn't blame them all, since damn it, he wasn't sure, but he knew he didn't want to hear it again.  
He watched intensely as Daniel leaned in and gave Sam a kiss, long and lingering, his hand sliding down her slim back to pull her in and hold her tight. Jack's throat tightened. He'd known, of course, but they'd been discreet around him. He hadn't realized how comfortable they'd become together.  
They separated, and Sam started to undress as Daniel banked the fire and blew out most of their candles and pine knot lights. Jack mourned the lack of light; even in worn military-issue underwear, Sam deserved good lighting. He was tempted to whistle, but he was afraid his throat was too dry.  
Daniel's shirt caught his eye as Daniel tossed it across the room. He watched as Daniel pushed his pants and shorts down and frankly stared as Daniel's half-full dick was released. It blushed almost red in the soft light—rising out of reddish-brown hair, plump and proud.  
Four years of not-looking, of making sure never to do more than glance. He looked back at Sam getting into bed. She pulled up the covers but stayed on her side, as he stayed on his; the new bed wasn't huge, but it was big enough to leave a space, a no-man's land, between them.  
Daniel walked up to him, lit by the tallow candles behind the bed and outlined by the dim fire in the other room. Jack couldn't look away as flickers of reddened light played across his newly tanned skin, highlighting muscles and hollows, hiding the bruises and scrapes of their current life. As he let his gaze drop again, Jack's stomach clenched tightly and he tried to swallow again past his dry throat.  
Daniel leaned down and before Jack could say anything—yes, no, he didn't know—Daniel kissed him. Jack startled, but Daniel slid one hand behind his neck and held him gently, strengthening the kiss, leaning into it, hovering over Jack, pushing him back, down into the bed. Jack licked his lips. Daniel's kisses were soft but scorching, somehow more intimidating than the more forceful ones he'd expected.  
Jack shrank back—surprised at himself—but Daniel just followed him. He could see Daniel's smile turn a little self-satisfied. He remembered Daniel telling Sam that Jack couldn't do this. Fuck that. He reached up, finding a safe-ish space on Daniel's back and pulled him down a little. Getting some control, even if it was the wrong direction, made it easier to open his lips and let Daniel in. After that, it was far too easy to suck in Daniel's tongue and slide his other hand up to hold Daniel tighter.  
Daniel moved his knee up on the bed between Jack's legs to brace himself, and Jack immediately pulled back again, pushing Daniel up and away, his heart suddenly pounding nervously. He looked over at Sam, still keeping her distance. She looked like he felt; worried, unsure…and turned on. He'd never realized she was the type who liked to watch. He wondered if she'd known, either.  
Daniel tapped his shoulder, encouraging him to move to the middle. He started to move, still not looking at Daniel, trying not to look as surprised as he felt; he'd been so sure Sam was going to be in the middle; hell, even Daniel in the middle would have been better than being put there himself.  
They coiled in on him, Daniel fearlessly pressed on one side; Sam curling up to the other. Jack was almost overwhelmed with sensation, but he still couldn't quite let go. He loved them—he had for years—and he knew them better than anyone else in his life except Teal'c; even better than he'd known Sara while they were still married. He knew they loved each other. Sometimes, when he let himself, he knew they loved him too. Really, what was stopping him now was the same thing that had stopped him back at the mountain. He'd never admit he was a romantic, but he'd never told somebody he loved them, if he couldn't honestly say he loved them more than anyone else in the world. He loved them both, but loving both of them seemed like denying each of them. But they seemed to think it could work. And honestly, they were two of the smartest people he'd ever known in his life. If they thought it was possible…  
He wiggled a little bit lower in the bed, letting both of them resettle themselves more tightly next to him, and then pulled them closer still. Daniel was slowly, almost absently running his hands along Jack's chest, not giving the nipples extra time, but not ignoring them either, smiling a little each time Jack moved. Sam mirrored his movements on Jack's thigh, occasionally slipping across to touch Daniel's thigh resting against his.  
The turmoil in his head wasn't affecting his body. He was as hard as he'd ever been in his life, sensitized to their every touch, amazed that the two of them had apparently decided to let him choose what came next. He knew one serious stroke from either of them, and he'd have them rolled on their back in a heartbeat. But instead, they all lay there, slowly touching and rubbing, a three-headed possibility not yet quite made flesh.  
Daniel raised his head and looked him in the eye. "What do you want? A series of agonizing jerks or one excruciating shock?" Daniel punctuated the question with another wriggle against Jack's side, clearly pressing his hard dick into Jack's hip. Daniel, as never before, a clear communicator.  
Sam jabbed him. "Well, you always wanted Janet to pull the bandage off all at once."  
"Wait a minute. This is going to hurt? No one told me this was going to hurt."  
Sam laughed, and he tried to catch her hand before she pinched him, but they pinned his hands beneath them, so he just flinched and laughed at her revenge.  
The two remaining candles over the bed guttered one after another, flaring up, then reducing the light in the room to a faint red glow. He shut his eyes and let himself relax, finally believing himself unseen. He wanted to say he was tired, sleepy, put it off for another night, but he was afraid come the morning he'd chicken out again. He needed to do something irrevocable.  
"So my little geniuses—have either of you ever done this before?"  
"This?" Sam's voice seemed suspiciously high pitched.  
"Don't be coy now, Major."  
Daniel pinched him, and spoke over his yelp. "No titles in bed. In fact, I'd love no titles anywhere on this planet, but I know when to pick my battles." Even in the dim light, Jack could see Sam roll her eyes and smile. "And yes, for the record, I've been in a threesome, but they were both women, so I'm not sure how applicable it was."  
Daniel's stare at her was a blatant plea for help, and on cue, she pinched Jack right next to where Daniel had jabbed him.  
Jack finally realized he could have something he'd wanted for a very long time. He laughed, "Well, it's not like we've ever known what we were doing before, right?" and without another word, Jack turned to kiss Sam, his arm falling away from Daniel.  


* * *

  
Daniel watched him turn away, and sighed as quietly as possible. A triangle was inherently unstable at the best of times and he knew this wasn't the best of times. He had weighed every possibility, determined it was worth the chance, and talked it over with Sam, but now there was a great chance he was just about to lose everything.  
Jack had never admitted to feeling anything for either of them, but blind men knew Jack loved Sam. Sam said that she knew Jack loved him too, but… Daniel took a deep breath and told himself to stop thinking and start acting. If Jack freaked, he freaked, and at least he'd finally know.  
He reached out and touched Jack's back, warm and solid. His hand slid down and around, counting ribs, the softness of his stomach, marking, cataloging each inch of skin. He leaned in, resting against the nape of Jack's neck, breathing him in and smiling at Sam over his shoulder. She looked…happy and worried and aroused in equal parts, and utterly beautiful, open in a way he had never seen her.  
Even if this went no further for him, he couldn't regret pushing them together. Sam deserved love, deserved it as few people ever had, with her strength, and courage and ability to give.  
He reached out to her, pulling the three of them together tightly for an instant, caught up in the moment. But once snugged up against Jack, he couldn't resist thrusting, just once.  
Far from flinching, Jack echoed his thrust, pressing forward against Sam and then back against Daniel.  
Taking in a huge breath, Daniel held it and slid his hand further, down to Jack's hips, then around and lightly brushed Jack's cock.  


* * *

  
"Whew," Sam said to herself. Watching Daniel stalk and kiss Jack had been… bizarrely hot. Seeing Jack look so confused had seemed desperately funny. Watching herself caress Jack, and then Daniel as if there was no different had amazed her. And now, feeling Jack against her and watching Daniel kiss Jack's nape and neck, she felt nothing short of amazed "God…damn!" she breathed, ignoring their laughter. She knew when profanity was required for emphasis. Tomorrow she could freak out about this. Tonight, she was going to believe in Daniel; in the three of them.  
Jack turned in her arms and kissed her again, pressing her back into the pelts and rushes below them. She felt overwhelmed, already drowning in him, his kisses—imagined against her good sense a thousand times—were all she'd hoped for, hot and wet and giving and taking—an entire conversation passing between them without a word.  
He kissed her neck, the hollow of her collarbone, her breasts as she arched, pressing up against him. She watched Daniel lick Jack's ears, then noticed Jack raise his head and simply breathe, catching his control back. She wondered which one of them had stolen that control, but didn't dwell on it, just decided to make it happen again.  
As Jack's hands roamed further, she forgot her plan immediately and just surrendered, spreading her legs, grabbing him for more kisses. She clutched at him, feeling her fingers curl into claws, scratching at his back, his ribs. Her legs pulled in, clamped together, strangling his wrist, forcing his hand where she needed it most, clinging to him, hard, harder, barely kissing, more breathing though their touching lips.  
She rolled Jack under her, still riding his hand, straddling him, driving him under her, rocking back and forth.  
With his other hand, he pulled her down, kissing her mouth, his face between her breasts, hot kisses on her even hotter skin. His face—she'd never seen his face like this—his eyes huge in the dimness, staring at her as she'd always wanted him to see her.  
When Daniel swung up behind her, straddling Jack, his arms around her waist, all she thought was "Yes! More!" She wanted more sensation, more movement, more heat. His skin, his cock pushing against her ass—his hand pulling her back upright, his lips nibbling, then biting…his hands sliding down her skin, her belly, sliding further, pressing against her mound, her clit, twinning around Jack's fingers—it was all perfect. She slid down a little, getting his hand lower, Jack's fingers moving inside her, squeezing her legs even tighter, gasping in breath, starting to cry out uncontrollably, wanting them both inside her, around her, with her. With one last great shuddering breath, she clenched, released and fell slowly down onto Jack, pulling him tightly, listening to their heartbeats race. His other arm came around her, rubbing through the sweat down her spine, then another hand joined it, smoothing her down—Daniel.  
She rolled over a bit and looked up. Daniel still straddled Jack, face flushed, nipples harder and cock even harder, straining forward just inches from Jack's cock laying stiff on Jack's stomach.  
She willed Daniel to lean forward, just enough, but the two of them seemed frozen suddenly, only their chests and eyes moving. Selfishly, knowing she was the only one who was anywhere near content yet, she turned and kissed Jack, long and slow and hot, luxuriating in the permission to do so. He was everything she'd hoped he would be and more.  
Then she got an elbow up underneath her and leaned up to kiss Daniel. Hard. Not the sweet placid kisses they'd used to tease Jack, but the real deal, exploring him and letting him explore back, while she wriggled against Jack. She pushed Daniel against Jack with each breath, winding herself back up by winding them up.  
She pulled him forward a bit, disguising her cunning as urgency, then laughed as their cocks touched and they each jerked. Not letting them back away, she ran her hand down Jack's chest and collected their cocks together. They barely fit in her hand, but she stripped them up and down once, feeling Jack quiver beneath her, seeing Daniel breathless and ecstatic above them.  
She wanted her hand to be bigger, she wanted her other hand free so she could be touching herself. She wanted them to touch her, she wanted to see them kiss, she didn't know what she wanted. She let go for a second so she could get her legs underneath her, and Daniel replaced her hand with his own, grabbing and holding their cocks against each other. Jack reached a hand up as well, interlacing their fingers. Sam could barely breathe, watching them, each staring at their conjoined hands, not each other's faces. She added her own hand lightly as they started to move up and down.  
Jack stared at their hands moving up and down on their dicks, some part of him still not believing this was happening. When Daniel shook his head and pulled his hand back. Sam pulled her hand back too, and Jack almost followed. Sam looked upset, but Daniel bent over and kissed her, lush and passionately; Jack wanted to be part of that kiss. He started to rise up, but Daniel edged away, sliding down Jack's legs, pulling his cock free of Jack's hand.  
Jack realized Sam was still staring at him holding his cock, his hand still wet from her juices. He felt he should be embarrassed, but he wasn't. Unreal. He looked at Sam's face, excited like she'd just discovered a new element, smiling like he'd never made her smile before.  
Without warning, Daniel swooped down on Jack's cock, possibly startling all three of them. Jack jumped a bit, Daniel choked, and Sam's eyes watered in sympathy. He looked down at Daniel's face, unable to believe this was happening. He was grateful when Sam leaned over and kissed him, even when she laughed a little at his inability to breathe deeply. She kissed his neck, his ears, finding his sensitive spots, smiling every time he cried out.  
Daniel…Daniel was amazing. He was sucking up and down, getting a rhythm going, and every few seconds, Jack hopelessly blithered to himself, Daniel is sucking my cock. Sam kissed him again, but he was panting too hard to kiss back.  
With the fine strategic mind the SGC had nurtured, Jack realized there was no reason he should be the only one losing control. Sam seemed to have come to the same conclusion—as he whispered, "go get him" she was already moving down the bed to crawl between Daniel's legs. Jack leaned up—they were an inspiring sight: Daniel's broad shoulders and lats, outlined as he held himself over Jack's legs, Sam's lush hips making a lovely counterpoint to Daniel's muscular ass.  
He watched Sam rub herself up Daniel's legs, gliding in his light hair and sweat. As she slid higher, watching Daniel spread his thighs making space for her was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. Jack was so close to losing control, he was afraid to touch Daniel. Sam had no such issue. She rubbed her breasts over his ass, and slid her hand around to the cut of his hip in front. She must have grabbed Daniel's cock, he realized, as Daniel's rhythm stuttered a little.  
Jack curled around Daniel's mouth, fervently caught up in Sam touching Daniel. He watched in amazement as her head lowered between Daniel's cheeks, licking and sucking, letting Daniel's rhythm move her around. She seemed to be working her way inside his crease with her tongue. His eyes opened wide, and he wished vainly for more light as he watched her pull her hands up and hold Daniel's cheeks apart to lick him deeper, something Jack never thought he'd see. He could feel Daniel's throat tighten around his cock as she moved; it was almost like she was licking him, coaxing him to relax and open further, enticing him to gasp around Daniel's cock.  
Jack couldn't done anything but tense his body to keep himself from thrusting into Daniel's open throat. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself. Sam continued to lick at Daniel; her face now buried completely, her back gorgeous below Daniel's. The two of them couldn't have driven him this crazy if they'd planned it, pinning him down under Daniel's amazing mouth while putting all of the other toys out of reach.  
Another beat, and Sam raised her face and smiled conspiratorially at him, her lips red and wet in the spare light. He felt another pause and gasp from Daniel, followed by another grin from Sam, as she ostentatiously licked a finger, and let it disappear beneath Daniel's back.  
Jack thrust once, uncontrollably. Realizing she was piercing Daniel's ass, even gently, was incandescently hot. She licked two fingers the next time, and let him wait for Daniel's gasp around Jack's dick. He couldn't believe she wasn't as affected as they were, and was almost reassured to see her other hand snaking between her legs. Oh god, he gasped, realizing she was pushing one hand into herself, while pushing the other into Daniel.  
Jack couldn't stand it any longer. He grabbed Daniel's face, feeling his cock push out Daniel's cheeks, and started thrusting shallowly, hearing Sam start to cry out with each stroke, knowing her fingers were slipping over her clit, knowing she was finger-fucking Daniel as Jack was fucking his mouth, pushing his thigh up so Daniel could rub against it, wanting it to be his hand holding Daniel's beautiful cock, thrusting faster, pushing harder against Daniel's cock, feeling Daniel's throat tense, hearing Sam cry out louder and louder. He seemed to hang on a high point, still and breathless, until they fell as one, never knowing which of them had pushed them over the edge.  
Sam waited for her heart rate to come back to normal, needing to find herself a little before she dragged herself back up to Jack's side and helped Jack pull Daniel back up with them. She'd learned early on never to speak of love when her clit was still throbbing, but right now, she knew she loved these men. And if she didn't love them equally, or exactly in the same way? Who cared. She tucked her head into Jack's shoulder, and saw Daniel smiling as he cuddled into Jack's other side. Her last major question—cuddler or sleeper—seemed to be answered; Jack kept pulling them closer, dropping kisses on her head, Daniel's brow, her cheek, looking like he'd just invented sex personally.  
She could barely see Daniel, but he looked rather pleased, too. Maybe now he would finally relax. Maybe now she could relax, too. And Jack? Jack suddenly looked like the whole damn thing had been his idea.  


* * *

  


### Epilogue: Day 548.

  
Day length sunrise to sunset, 16 hours, 1 minute (one minute less than yesterday).  
Daniel lectured Jack and Sam on Solstice and Equinox rituals for weeks. Apparently the most important thing was to take stock of what that had accomplished, and make plans for the coming year. Right now, with Sam and Daniel curled up asleep on either side of him, Jack would have to say that they accomplished a lot that year.  
Next year? Who knew. His take was, either they tried to Adam and Adam and Eve it—and Sam'd never mentioned any desire to populate any planet, much less this one—or they traveled. Gave up their lovely encampment, left a note on the Stargate or just stacked a pile of Jaffa armor visible from a MALP—with a middle finger held up, so that Hammond will know it was them—and moved closer to the equator and started figuring out how to make rum for some daiquiris.  
But the terror twins, they were not the giving up kind, so they all stayed here in the temperate zone. Sam built Jack a telescope, while Daniel had a little progress on his chicken and goat domestification. They all stayed busy. Jack knew that Sam occasionally dreamed of building their own DHD to gate back home, but even Sam was daunted by the need to recreate an entire technological society first.  
Jack always voted against working on better lighting. Winter nights were long, but he thought they already had a low light activity that worked for them. If Sam and Daniel got lamps working, the next you know they would have made paper and spent the winter writing books, and teaching each other anthropology and astrophysics.  
Most importantly, they thought tripping Jack was all their idea, and he never did tell them different. Or that the first time he came touching both of them? Felt like the first time Jack went through the gate—even felt his face tingle with cold like it used to.  
Jack wasn't fooling himself. This wasn't a bucolic wonderland. He missed Teal'c, and probably always would. He knew they were all desperate to know what was happening on Earth. They had come damn close to running out of food last winter. They had only basic medical training. Honestly, Jack worried anytime either Sam or Daniel was out of his sight. Maybe he was still a Colonel. Their Colonel. They still let him act as if he was in charge, as much as they ever did. And he finally got to love them, more than he ever could have before. And if they ever did get back, they'd figure out how to make that part last. 


End file.
